I knew this was coming. I chose this. But standing outside SpeakeasyBCN, staring at the doors, I suddenly wanted to be anywhere else.
This felt different from paddling out into a heavy wave. That fear? It’s physical. Your body knows what to do, even if your brain is screaming. But this? This was different. This was walking into something I knew I would fail at.
I took a breath. Stepped inside.
Immediate Regret
It hit me within ten seconds.
The receptionist greeted me in rapid Spanish. Not slow for the foreigner Spanish. Real Spanish. Native Spanish. I caught maybe three words.
“Uh… sí?” I offered, hoping context would save me.
She smiled—politely, but definitely amused—then switched to English. “First day?”
God help me.
She gave me my class info, a map of the school, and a look that I’m pretty sure meant ‘good luck.’
Thrown to the Sharks
The classroom was already full when I walked in. Small group, maybe ten people. Mix of nationalities—some Europeans, a few Americans, a couple of students from Asia.
The teacher—all energy, no English allowed—started immediately. No easing in. No introductions in English. Straight into Spanish.
My brain short-circuited in real time.
I caught bits and pieces. Verbs, something about past tense, maybe a question? Then—oh no—she called on me.
“Jake, ¿qué hiciste ayer?”
What did I do yesterday? I know this. I know this. I KNOW this.
Nothing. Blank.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Stared at her like a deer in headlights.
The class waited. I heard my own heartbeat. Someone coughed.
“I, uh…” I started in English, immediately regretting it. “Yo…” I threw out a verb. Probably the wrong one. A complete mess.
The teacher nodded patiently, rephrased my answer, moved on. I sat there, drowning in embarrassment, my face hot.
This is what I signed up for.
First Small Win
Lunch break. I needed air.
I wandered into a small café down the street, still mentally recovering. Ordered a coffee in stiff, broken Spanish. The barista nodded, but I could tell—she understood me, but just barely.
Then she asked something. Fast. Too fast.
I stared. She stared.
“Más despacio, por favor?” I managed.
She slowed down. I caught it this time. Responded.
And she nodded. No amused smile. No switching to English. Just normal conversation.
I walked out with my coffee feeling like I just caught my first clean wave in weeks.
Same Struggle, Different Ocean
I’ve been here before. Just not in a classroom.
First time in Mundaka? I got smoked. But I kept paddling out. First time I tried to hold a conversation in Spanish? I froze. But I tried again.
Surfing, Spanish—it’s the same damn thing. You fail a thousand times before anything clicks.
I know this is going to suck for a while. I’m going to walk out of classes mentally wrecked. I’m going to feel stupid, slow, out of place.
But I also know what happens when you keep showing up.
Takeaways from Day One
- Your brain will fight you. Ignore it. Keep going.
- Full immersion means full exhaustion. Accept it.
- Embarrassment is just part of the process.
- Small wins matter. One decent sentence today = one less struggle tomorrow.
- This is just like surfing. Wipeouts now. Clean rides later.
Tomorrow? Back at it.